Taste Test
by MaplePucks
Summary: Artie's favorite day is Valentine's and all he wants to is bake. With Al. Begrudgingly, Al humors him just for the day and puts on a frilly apron to bake with his man. He learns that Artie intends to give some of the cupcakes away but he's not certain they are good enough and wants Al to have a taste test. Al's in for more then he expected. *Sexual themes, language, 2P!UsUk.*


**A valentines Day fic for you! Featuring probably my top two fave love birds, Al and Artie of the 2P AU. I just have the feeling Valentine's Day would be Artie's fave holiday. And, he would spice things a bit. ;)**

**Enjoy, reviews are awesome! **

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Any other day of the year, Al would have said no. In fact that no would have probably been punctuated with a few explicatives and a rant about how he wasn't into that sort of thing. However, he thought trying to take a calming breath, today was Artie's favorite day of the whole year. Exactly why that was, Al failed to realize but he went with it anyway. It was best to keep Artie happy, unless he wanted to end up "accidently" poisoned. Again. Thank God Valentine's Day only came once a year, Al thought as he snatched the hot pink frilly apron from the man with expectant blue and pink eyes.

After successfully donning the ridiculous mandatory apron, Al turned his attention to the kitchen counter where a variety of mixing utensils and ingredients had already been laid out. Artie, who was now in a matching apron, began to mix them happy together in the largest bowl smiling when Al would hand him something. It took every ounce of composure Al had not to roll his eyes each time he did.

Cupcakes.

Every single year Artie and himself would do the same thing on this day, make tiny over decorated cakes. Normally Al hated baking but Artie loved it. He let Artie handle most of it, only helping here and there. That suited both of them just fine it seemed, Artie danced and hummed happily while he mixed. Al thought the behavior was annoying and unnecessary coming from anyone else but when Artie did it, it made him smile. As long as Artie was happy, then Al could be content.

As Al started filling the cupcake tray with red and pink colored paper cups, he looked curiously at the batter then back at Artie.

"Why the hell are you making so many this year?" He asked. The mixing bowl was almost filled to the brim with the sticky dark brown goop. Artie smiled back at him.

"I thought it would be lovely to give some to Francis and Matt." He replied nonchalantly, beginning to spoon some of the batter into each cup. Al eyed him cautiously, it was rare that he would want to share his treats with anyone but him.

"These aren't normal cupcakes are they? What did Matt and Francis do to get you so pissed off you'd poison them?" Al asked. Artie flicked his free hand at him lazily, not even looking up.

"Dear Alfie! Don't be so cynical! I wouldn't poison them, not your dear twin brother. Goodness no. These are regular chocolate and strawberry, plain and simple love." He said. Al wasn't entirely convinced but continued to fill the tray as Artie spooned in batter.

It didn't take long before Artie was sliding two trays worth into his large, double capacity wall oven. Al wasted no time and ripped his apron off, throwing it into the next room. Even though Artie kept his on, it was a relief. This little routine would be over soon. Al hopped up to sit on the counter and watched as Artie began to clean up. He smiled to himself, no matter how many times Artie begged and pleaded, cleaning up was something Al was never going to do. No how much he loved the man.

First, he washed the measuring cups and sppons they had used. Al watched as he cleaned each one meticulously, his fingers gently scrubbing away the food left behind. Like each one was a weapon he had to keep polished and in perfect working order. Al supposed that was mostly true, his cupcakes were known to be deadly. To certain people. Apparently Al had built up a tolerance for them, he wasn't dead yet at least. He glanced over to the oven at the cupcakes as they puffed and cracked, what did Artie have in store for Francis and Matt?

When he looked back over to Artie, he was surprised to see him frowning at the remnants in the mixing bowl. Al's interest immediately peaked, Artie never frowned. Up until that moment Al wasn't even sure he knew how. He stared for a few moments before he spoke.

"What's the frown for? The Matt look doesn't work on you very well." Al asked. Artie looked back at him and was actually pouting out his bottom lip. Al got the impression of a toddler about to throw a huge temper tantrum. He bit his own lip to avoid laughing.

"Butterscotch, I'm not so sure these are good enough to give away." He said. He reached into the bowl and swiped some off with his finger. Sticking into his mouth, he grimaced and gave a little shudder. Al blinked with disbelief. That was a huge shock, usually Artie always went on and on about how brilliant his cupcakes were. It was unheard of, damn near impossible for him not to like what he created. Al scoffed.

"Ok yea, I believe that like I believe Kuma wouldn't maul me to death if given the chance." He remarked, rolling his eyes, finally letting out his laugh. Artie grabbed a beater and walked over to stand in front of Al.

"Do you mind having a taste for me? Pretty please Alfie?" Artie pleaded, holding the beater up for him. Al stared in his blue and pink eyes that were full of apprehension instead of their usual devilish glare. After a few minutes of debate, he sighed and leaned forward to take a lick.

"Tastes just fine, like all the ones you've made before." He said. The only things that were different about these were that they were a bit sweeter and the chocolate tasted like it was darker than what he would normally use. Artie's eyes lite back up and he smiled.

"Oh that is a huge relief, thank you Alfie!" He sang out, resuming the task of cleaning.

As he watched Artie clean some more, he felt something strange happen to him. Artie gracefully swirled the soapy water around the large bowl, making sure to get all of the batter off. It was like he was moving in slow motion. Each revolution around the bowl, made Al's heart beat faster. He shifted on the counter, trying to hold back the moan he could feel in his throat. What the hell was going on he thought? Was he really so desperate that he was being turned on by housework?

No that wasn't it, this was more than just the usual lust he routine felt. This was a strong desire, as he watched Artie he knew it was getting stronger. An ache, he shifted again, it hurt. He physically hurt and his brain was telling him that the only way to stop the pain was to get his arms around Artie. He gripped the counter hard, what was he going to do to him? Normally they were known to get rough but he had never felt this way before. He tried to fight it, this wasn't normal who knew what could happen. Artie moved on to the beaters next, and Al watched him run the sponge over them.

There was no fighting it after that.

Al hopped off the counter and walked, not ran liked his brain urged, over to stand behind Artie. He reached around and grabbed Artie's hands, moving with them as they washed the beaters. Artie leaned his head back to rest on Al's shoulders.

"You've finally decided to help clean love?" Artie whispered. His voice set of more of the feeling racing through Al's body. He gripped Artie's hands harder and pressed into him, pushing him hard against the counter.

"Stop…washing…dishes." Al growled, unable to put together a full sentence. The ache was building, he couldn't stop shifting where he stood.

"Al? Are you alright? Al, that hurts stop shoving me into the counter. Now!" Artie yelled turning around to face him. Al didn't care, didn't attempt to answer. He bent down and kissed Artie roughly. He kept his arms pinned at his sides and continued to kiss him, now moving to his neck. Slowly, he raised one hand and untied the apron, pulling it off of Artie, throwing it with his.

The ache made him twist and turn, pulling on Artie's wrists. He felt him throw his head back and it only fueled the feeling. Al wasn't sure what was going on, he had never wanted Artie this badly. Yes he loved the man and they had had their fair share of rough nights but this was entirely different. This was primal, almost an animalistic want. He went in for another kiss on the lips and felt himself bite Artie a little. The man didn't protest, kissing him back.

A few moments later, Al broke from the kissing already slightly panting. He looked down at Artie and saw that he was smiling up at him. Like he knew, knew what Al was feeling, the kind of raw lust that was course through his veins. Al became mad, he gripped Artie by the shoulders and spun him around. Slamming him against the hot oven, he held him there with one hand while the other snaked its way up his shirt.

Al traced his finger around his bare skin, relishing the feel of goosebumps springing up behind his touch. Soon, he had peeled off Artie's shirt that as well so that only his bare skin was pressed against the oven. To his surprise, Artie was pulling off his own jacket and then shirt so that their bare skin touched. It was an exhilarating feeling. Artie ran his hands over Al's chest and he shuddered. Artie's skin was so pale, so beautiful. Al's hands gripped Artie's hips as he bent down, kissing his chest, moving swiftly to his abdomen. It always surprised him that Artie wasn't soft with weight but hard with muscle. He brushed his lips against the tight skin and both of them moaned at the same time.

Standing back up, Al pressed himself fully against Artie keeping him against the oven. Artie grimaced but didn't squirm. Another kiss, then another to the neck and then back to lips, Al couldn't decide where to kiss. Suddenly, the ache must of hit its peak because he dug his nails into Artie's chest, wrapping one leg around his. They were still standing, leaning, against the oven. Al looked at Artie and went in for a few quick rough kisses before breaking away panting.

"What…the fuck…was in those cakes?" He breathlessly asked. Artie raised his hand and ran it through Al's hair, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He whispered, his lips touching Al's still. Before Al knew what had happened, they were sliding down the floor both his legs now twined with Artie's. He kissed him again and again, nothing seemed to satisfy the lust.

The timer blared and AL found himself thinking that baking cupcakes wasn't such a bad way to spend Valentine's day after all.


End file.
